


new start

by endlessxriver



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:31:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessxriver/pseuds/endlessxriver
Summary: On Valentine's Day, Frank can't help but stop at a florist shop to buy some white roses...





	new start

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you notice any grammar mistakes or typos.  
> Happy Valentine's Day !

He had no intention of buying anything from a florist, but when he passed in front of the small boutique, where a young and skinny girl was struggling to carry an enormous bouquet of roses inside, a wince glued to her lips, he stopped to help her.

“Watch out for the thorns” he said as he opened the glass door for her, and for the first time she looked up at him.

He noticed her blue eyes, her chestnut hair and his heart missed a beat. He tried hard not to let her souvenir appear in his mind but at the end he failed and here she was, a tiny thing, laughing in his arms. His Lisa.

“Thank you so much” the girl responded with a sweet voice as she stepped inside the shop and he followed her. “I'm a bit overwhelmed, today”

He nodded, hands in his pocket, taking a quick glance around. Bouquets and bouquets of red roses had been placed in the front, under some cheesy banner wishing a Happy Valentine's Day to everyone. The perfume of the flowers was strong here, floating around him and he felt kind of out of place in this décor. The girl - Nina he could now read on her green apron - put the bouquet on her desk then wiped the sweat of her forehead with her sleeve.

“Sorry, that was nice of you to help me. Need any advices?”

She approached him, her smile brightening her face and he felt his stomach twitch.

“Do you have... anything white?” he asked, avoiding her sapphire gaze.

Nina frowned a bit, but at his own surprise, when he raised his head to look at her, he read relief on her face. Maybe she was getting bored of men asking her for the same single red rose all the time. She held a finger in the air to order him to stay still then disappeared behind a door at the end of the shop. So he waited, his heart pumping in his chest, his left arm throbbing with pain because some low-life he put down earlier in the week had wounded him with his knife. It was not a deep cut, but it was probably infected. Frank couldn't had cared less. Every single one of his physical wounds always ended up healing, anyway.

The reasonable part of his mind tried to convince him to leave, to get his ass out of here before Nina came back with some beautiful flowers in her hands, proud and smiling and hoping. But he didn't want to disappoint this girl, this girl who reminded him so much of his own in some way. He'd never been much of a Valentine's Day fan. He missed so much of them with Maria and now, the thought of it only made him want to throw up or to punch a wall. Still, here he was, in a damn florist shop, waiting for a composition he wasn't even sure he would give to someone. He did want to give it to someone in particular. As a peace offering. As an excuse. He could already see the shock on her face, the confusion. He could hear the questions, he feared that she would push him away or throw the roses at his face. He deserved this. But he needed to _try_.

“I got everything white I could find” Nina said suddenly, coming back to her desk with the bouquet in her hands.

She placed it carefully next to the enormous one and looked up to him.

“There's some lys and peonies – although their color is more of a light pink – and of course, white roses.”

“I'll take the roses only.” he said, and as he expected, the smile vanished from the girl's face and her shoulders lowered down, disappointment staining her pale irises.

“Okay.” she said, then she raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Are you sure?”

 _I'm not_ , he wanted to answer. _I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here._

“Yes.” Nina gave up finally, and started to tie the roses together.

“Is it a gift?” she asked, obviously curious. “I mean it's Valentine's Day, but who knows. Should I put a card, with a name?”

“No need.” He cleared his dry throat. “I'll bring it to her myself.”

Nina glanced at him under her long eyelashes.

“Alright, mister.” she said, tease in her voice. “Do you know the meaning of white roses?”

“Hm?”

Lost in thoughts, he raised his head up, and frowned. Nina chuckled.

“People sometimes use them to propose to someone, or at their wedding, you know – it fits well with the dress.”

At that, he scoffed and murmured a “jesus christ” in his beard.

“But often, it means that the person is ready for a new start with the other.”

He swallowed, feeling his blood run cold in his veins. _I want there to be an after for you_ , she had said to him that night. Back then he couldn't even imagine starting a new life. He was run by the war and the war only. His future was made of blood, it stank of gunpowder and sweat and fear, not of roses, and hope.

“Here you go, mister!” Nina said, finally, handing him the bouquet that he grabbed with a shaky hand.

“Thanks, Nina.”

The girl's smile enlarged, as she heard her name. He responded with a polite grin, paid her, then left the shop, heart heavy and painful in his chest. Soon he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, flowers in his hands, not sure what to do next. Nina was skilled, the composition was gorgeous, the roses big and bright. It would be a waste to throw them in the trash.

So, with a sigh, Frank straightened up, then started to walk, heading for a building he knew way too well.

 

 

Buried deep in her work, a mug of black coffee on the desk besides her computer, Karen barely heard the first knocks on her front-door. She raised her head and sighed, tucked some lock of hair behind her ear then stood up. Ms Waverley, her old neighbor, must had forgotten to buy flour again and probably wanted to borrow some from her. So she went to the door, her mind still fixed on her last article and opened it without even checking into the peephole. Then she saw him and stopped dead in her tracks.

Frank was standing here, dressed fully in black, clean-shaved, some purple bruises circling his right cheekbone. She looked at him, then at the bouquet of roses in his hands, then back at him again. Speechless.

“Hey.” he said finally, with a thin smile.

She blinked. It'd been months. He'd been a ghost for months. Again.

“Frank.” she managed to say, unsure of what to do. Wrap him in her arms or shut the door to his face. She did nothing of that, just took a step on the side and invited him to enter.

Once they were both in, she closed the door and leaned against it, her heart palpitating inside her chest.

“I brought you some news ones.” he said, putting the flowers on the closest surface. “Saw the dead ones on your windowsill.”

She closed her eyes for a second. _Shit_. She should have thrown them away. But then she remembered that, for months, it has been her only way of letting him know she wanted to see him again. It had worked, somehow. He was here today.

Why did he choose this particular day to show up? Was it supposed to mean something? Deep down, she hoped it was. But then, knowing him, he probably wasn't aware of the date.

“Thank- thank you” she said, composing herself. “I was just... (She gestured towards her desk.) Work, you know.”

She watched the regret shine in his dark irises and immediately wished she had kept her mouth shut.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I can come back later.”

He went to the door but she stopped him and grabbed his arm.

“No!” she said – yelled – suddenly, feeling the heat growing on her cheeks. “No, you- you can stay.”

He looked at her, then nodded. When she let go of his arm, he winced.

“Are you okay?” she asked, as panic rose in the pit of her stomach. “Did I hurt you?”

“S'nothing. Just a cut.”  

“Let me see.”

He smiled and shook his head, but then he saw the concern on her face and let out a deep sigh.

“Karen, I didn't came here for you to patch me up.”

“Really?” she said, hands on her hips. “Why did you, then? For the roses?”

“No, I-” he trailed off, clenched his teeth together and she rolled her eyes.

“Bathroom, Frank. Now.”

As she led him towards her small bathroom, she noticed the grin on his lips and her heart fluttered against her chest.

“Yes, ma'am.” he said, with some amusement in his voice.

“They're nice, by the way.”

He stopped and turned to look at her.

“What?”

“The roses.” she answered, with a timid smile. “They're nice, they- they smell good.”

He shrugged.

“Yeah? You have to thank Nina for that.”

Once they were both standing in the small room, he sat on the edge of the bath-tub. Karen raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“Nina?” she asked, a bit confused.

But he didn't answer and winced even more, holding his left arm and groaning. She kneeled besides him, opened her medicine cabinet and grabbed the emergency kit she bought months ago – in case of.

“Take off your shirt.” she ordered, waiting. The corner of his mouth twitched a bit.

“I'd like to know you a bit better first.”

God, humor now? She ignored the sudden wave of heat running through her whole body, and scoffed.

“Shut up. Let me see that cut.”

He nodded and lifted the left side of his shirt up, tucking it on his shoulder. Karen gasped.

“Just a cut? she repeated, holding a hand to her mouth. “Jesus, Frank, look at it! It's a mess!”

The stab wound looked deep and infected. Blood was still flowing from it. It must had hurt like hell.

“I've had worse.” Frank said, shrugging.

“Stop playing the tough guy.” Karen racked a hand through her hair, thinking. “You- you need to go to the hospital. I can't fix this.”

He turned to her, searching for her eyes and she felt suddenly stupid. Of course he wouldn't go to a hospital.

“Hey, that's okay. I'll live. Just put some disinfectant on it.”

She sighed. With shaky hands, she poured some alcohol on the compress and placed it, carefully, upon the wound.

“It's going to hurt.” she warned him, knowing damn well he wouldn't care at all.

Still, she heard him suck on a breath when she scrubbed the compress against his skin, eyebrows frowned with concentration. Once she was done, she bandaged his arm as well as she could and took a step backward to admire her work.

“Thanks” Frank said, putting back his shirt. “You feel better?”

Karen stood up and leaned against the porcelain sink.

“Actually, no.” she said with a small voice. “Why are you here, Frank? Don't say you had business to do, 'cause I can't stand to hear this everytime you...”

“Karen, hey.” Frank leaped to his feet, then put a hand on her shoulder. She felt shivers running down her spine. “I...I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, here, you saw me.” She pursed her lips together, purposely avoiding his eyes. “I'm as fine as I could be. No threats upon my head. I'm- I'm...” she trailed off and turned to look at him. He was so close, she could have fall in his arms and bury her face in the croup of his neck. She wanted to do that. But she remained still.

“Frank, I missed you.”

Here she was, pouring her heart out as always, and she watched his expression change from confusion to comprehension. The hand on her shoulder slipped alongside her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its way.

“I'm here.” he said, his voice a low whisper.

She couldn't stand it anymore. She clamped her arms around his neck as tight as she could, breathing him in, feeling the hope rise in her chest. He put his palm between her shoulder-blades and wrapped her waist with his other arm. This time, the hug didn't feel wrong or awkward. It felt _true_.

After what seemed like an eternity, they departed from each other, all the tension and fear vanished into the dust.

“Are you staying over?” Karen asked, plunging her eyes in his. “It's the least you could do.” she added, with a teasing tone and she felt pure joy exploding in her heart when a sweet smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

“If you want me to, ma'am.”


End file.
